Well, the past few days have been a bit rocky for me, keeping myself in suspense about what I'm going to do while enduring the usual input from outside. Honesty has been a recurring theme: how much do I owe her, or do I owe it to myself, regardless of the trouble it would cause. And do I have the guts? See, the problem I have dealing with her input is that I tend to see some way in which she could be correct. For instance, even if she accuses me of something I'm not doing, the fact that I am
I am a soldier A casualty of love I've been from heaven All the way to hell I've had a journey Much more than I can tell I've got stories Much more than I can sell All this mass confusion Causes chaos in my brain I'm on the battlefield of love With all of the illusions I won't ever be the same I'm on the battlefield The battlefield of love I'm a prisoner A prisoner of love I have been captured And kept underground I have been tortured But I don't make a sound 'Cause I know one day One day I will
Well, still no progress on making progress. My half-brother tells me "the conflict is all in your own mind", and he's right. All the roadblocks are ones I've thrown up myself. I guess you could look at it as a prolonged relapse, instead of never having started, if you squint hard enough ... Anyway, Yappy Who Near or Nappy You Hear, whichever you prefer.
I've had several realizations recently. First, I realized that the reason that I did not react when my wife first began verbally abusing me is that I was already used to hearing the same stuff from myself. Although the words were different, the tone was familiar. Second, I realize now that I seem to have reduced the amount of that negative self-talk. I think it's because, in my naturally passive way, I just started to let her do it, instead of doing it myself. The third one is the funny one.
Well, I feel like doing a retrospective of this year. It seems I've learned a thing or two, at least. This time last year, I left home after an argument half-dressed and with only suicide or hospital as options. Obviously, I chose the latter. That didn't stop the suicidal thoughts, but in a way, it did stop the actions. The next thing I learned (partly from other patients) is to let go. There is so much about other people that I will never be able to change. My old logic said that if I just
I spent some time with my 18 yr old son and his girlfriend yesterday. We went to the beach. The wind was blowing as strong as it could straight out of the north, but we found a shark tooth as big as the palm of my hand. The palm of my hand is small, but that shark tooth was huge! The tide was washing in, and also washing in what the sand dredger was dredging, so there was lots to be found in the incessant north blows of the wind, with a very beautiful sunset.
I wish. Family conflict has started this time even before I arrive. Usually doesn't happen this way. It happens after arrival at least once with my sister being the instigating biatch. I don't wanna walk on eggshells, but I already am, even before I get there. I'm exhausted. I'm stressed. Damn I'm tired. I don't even wanna have to worry with it. I've already been told on the phone I was "stupid" not once, but twice, and that really pisses me off, but I don't have the energy, nor do I want to was
"A very thirsty crow saw a pitcher. Hoping to find water, the crow flew to it with delight. When he reached it, he discovered that it contained only a little water. The water was so far down that he could not reach it. He tried everything he could think of to reach the water, but nothing worked. At last he collected as many stones as he could carry and used his beak to drop them one by one into the pitcher, until the water was high enough for him to drink."
I talked to my dad today; first time since Mom died. Before that, it was two months, and before that, probably over a year. My dad was born in Eastern Scotland, adopted son of a coal miner just before the Depression. He was illegitimate and was abused physically and emotionally because of that. He eventually married my mother, after her divorce left her with my then-seven-year-old half-brother. About eight years later, my "accidental" birth, and that of my younger brother a year later, follo
Well, I decided not to do the hospital post, not because of worries about triggering people, but just ... because. This mirrors a trend with me (I almost said "lately", but the reality is that it has been much longer.) For instance, a day or two ago, I resolved to change the direct deposit of my paycheck, leave my wife, and go live in a motel. Didn't happen. Why? Things didn't really change for the better. About all that happened was that enough time passed that I quit thinking about it. Is
This is revised from the spring of 1999. I've been looking at my walk through life as a whole-the life I have lived, or the state of life I have lived in, and I have been unable to find the words to describe my state of life lived. I revised this today with added descriptions. Why I thought of it today was unconscious and disconnected, but now grounded. I think I have been looking at the state of dissociation I have lived in, and in some ways continue to live in. Written 4/2/1999 Revised 12/16/2
Not the simple meaning; I know what it means. But defining what falls into that category and what doesn't isn't simple. For instance, I had intended to post (well, blog really) about my hospital stay last New Year's. I was going to describe some of the events there, most of which I would not have called disturbing, but ... How do I guess what would disturb others? Especially people with less pleasant memories of their own experiences? And, does warning me somehow absolve me of responsibilit
My thoughts are a bit diffuse today. Between the potential for layoff, without any certainty, the medication(s) questions, upcoming vacation, how to respond to people Here, a possible excess of coffee and general discontent, you can see my problem. "Simplify!" Meh. It's too complicated to.
(I have a love of Spoonerisms, don't mind me.) Well, that stink of layoff we've been smelling for a few days seems to have come true. But! They still won't say who or when. Idiots.
Sadness weeps. Like a Willow flows with tear drops of dew. Stings like ice feathers from the gray weary clouds Burns like a torch Orange, Red and Glows Raw. Pierces like a nail rusty, bent, and Needle hollow Moans like a squall Roars, Pours, with Heavy currents. Howls like a beast visciously, unmercifully, and Sudden gnaws Who Knows? Pain. But the Soul. Cries in anguish Silence. Like a Willow. agm
Yeah, I know, I'm blaming her and not focusing on myself, but it's my blog. My wife is a narcissist, in the psychiatric sense. Lord no, she'd never seek such a diagnosis. But I need to say out loud just what I have to deal with. Narcissists act proud, but basically, they are the opposite. Something in her past (and I have been given some hints on what, perhaps) made her very afraid, unable to control her own safety. So, she craves control. She belittles others, especially those around her w
In another forum I write in, the topic was "Wal-Mart worker dies after shoppers knock him down." The copy of the article from New York stated he was 34 years old. He died from being trampled by a stampede of Black Friday shoppers. This is my response to the senselessness, and what it means to me to "do without." Never in my years have I ever had any desire to act stupid on Black Friday, and every year some stupid persons are hurt or hurt by stupid persons, and in this topic actually killed. Now
Yes, you can rest assured that I have "issues"; that's why I'm here. But my issues don't extend to deliberately trying to hurt others. Myself, maybe. Even so, only in ways you can't see.
I censor myself on many levels. People rarely see what I think of as the "real me". Okay, I know, trite, but stay with me. The most visible level, on a site like this, is the fact that I don't use a spell-checker, and I write in complete sentences. Not "incomplete sentences"; I checked. :-) Anyway, this little editor stays busy while I type, which I can do fairly rapidly after a year-long class in high school. It serves me well as a professional typist, that is to say, as a software engine
Well, I'm another day older. Forty-seven years ago, but yesterday, my mother went into the hospital in labor. However, a helpful but misguided nurse gave her something to put her to sleep, thereby postponing my birth for over twelve hours. To the end, my mother would have to correct herself that I was not born the 2nd of December, because that's the day she went in. Anyway, enough avoidance ... Basically, it's not a good day to think about her, especially about the distance there was between
It's very easy to lose new habits. I realized this morning that I had forgotten my new medication last night, for instance. Too, it was hard to think of anything to write about, today, but I find it helpful to write, so I'm doing it. Maybe the only thing harder than losing new habits is deciding to form them in the first place. Reading the self-help section of the Topics here, they mention the importance of making a formal plan and reviewing it often. Haven't done that. And I can feel the i
